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The Heart of Love

Page 8

by Platt, Meara


  “Heether, I did no’ wish it to happen either. I wanted ye to have yer dream. No one wishes for yer happiness more than I.”

  “Then leave me be, Robbie. Please. I’m begging you.”

  “It is no’ me ye need to convince, lass. Ye know it is yerself who’s causing ye this pain.” He tucked his arm around her as she crumbled against him, knowing how wretched she was feeling at this moment.

  “How can I trust that you will love me forever, Robbie? How can I trust that you’d be faithful even for a week? You reeked of stale perfume this morning. You’d obviously been with a woman last night, wrapped up in a tawdry affair.”

  “I dinna touch any woman last night.”

  “You reeked of–”

  “I will no’ deny I was in a gaming hell. The sort of establishment where more than mere games of chance take place. Aye, there were women there. I did no’ have any of them. I played cards.”

  “But this is your life, Robbie. Don’t you see? Will you expect me to be the sort of wife who stands by meekly and utters not a word while you go off each night to engage in your amusements? I’d never stand for it.”

  “Nor would I expect ye to. Why ever would ye think I’d behave as I did in my bachelor days?” He could see the doubt in her eyes, and it hurt to know she thought so little of him.

  “Are you saying you’d come home to me after work each night?”

  “Aye, lass. Upon my oath, I’d be a faithful husband to ye. I’d commit my heart and body to ye, and ye alone. If I were yer husband, I’d have ye fall asleep in my arms each night, and ye’d wake to find me beside ye in the morning.”

  “Are you saying we would share sleeping quarters?”

  “Aye, if ye wished it.”

  “For how long?”

  He tried not to frown, for he’d expected her doubts and knew he was solely to blame for giving rise to them. He’d never been faithful. He’d never been steady. But he’d never been in love before, nor had he ever lied to a woman and let her think she meant more to him than she did. He had never belonged to one woman as he now wished to belong to Heather. “Do ye think I’m the sort of man who would abide ye in my bed only long enough to breed heirs?”

  He did not await her answer before continuing. “I dinna want us to have separate lives. If we married, ye’d have my heart. All of it. Ye’d have my body. All of it, too. I’d never betray ye.”

  His words were only causing her more pain. “I want to believe you, Robbie. I wish I could.” She wiped away a few more tears, knowing she needed to stop before her eyes permanently remained that telltale red, and Tilbury would realize she had been crying.

  Robbie handed her his handkerchief. “Here, lass.”

  “Thank you.” She dabbed at her eyes. “It isn’t fair of you to toss this at me now, Robbie. Not at this last moment. I’m to be married in a matter of days.”

  “Then why are ye in tears? Why are we out here, both of us miserable and brokenhearted? Ye ran away from reading the book with me, but there is nowhere else for either of us to run, my sweet pixie. We’re caught.”

  “No! I may have avoided reading that book with you. But you physically went away. You left me. How can I be sure you won’t do it again?”

  “It is not at all the same. Ye wanted yer marquess. I was trying to do the right thing by stepping aside.”

  “You abandoned me, Robbie.”

  She may as well have slapped him; he felt so insulted. “I backed out like a gentleman to allow ye to pursue yer dream. If not for the damn oath I gave yer sisters, stupidly promising to read the book with ye, I would have stayed away until after the wedding.”

  “You should have stayed away.”

  He wanted to shake her until her teeth rattled. Why was she fighting the obvious? “I gave my oath.”

  “And now this book has placed a curse on us. It will not let you leave.”

  “It is no’ that book holding me in London. Lord Liverpool has commanded me to stay. He’s threatened to shoot me if I try to return home to Caithness. He will, too.” He sighed and shook his head. “Let me court ye, Heather.”

  “What!” She obviously wanted to pound her fists against his chest. “Now? With me betrothed to Tilbury and getting married next week? Have you lost all reason?”

  “Perhaps. But this is the heart of the matter, isn’t it? Are ye going to marry him? Or will ye follow yer heart and marry me?”

  “Oh, that’s rich. Suddenly I’m to marry you? I’m supposed to believe you want to marry me? That it isn’t your sense of competition speaking? Or some terrible spell cast by that wicked book?”

  He looked at her aghast. “There’s nothing evil about that book.”

  She curled her hands into fists. “If I broke off my betrothal to Tilbury, would you really step forward and offer for my hand in marriage?”

  “Aye.”

  “Are you certain? Do you not think that once I’m available, the passion will die out of you? What will you do when you find you’ve suddenly had a change of heart, and I wasn’t so precious to you after all?”

  “Lass, what are ye talking about? This is no’ a game for me.”

  “I’m ungettable now. But if I were to break it off with Tilbury, I’d be just another available female for you to conquer. How long before you tired of me? Don’t you see, Robbie? This is why you want me. It’s that low brain nature in you, compelling you to conquer and mate.”

  “Pixie, that’s ridiculous. Ye’ve never been that to me.”

  “Haven’t I? Once you’ve won me, what then? Robbie, you have never been a one-woman man. In all these years, has no one ever caught your fancy?” She answered for him. “No, there’s been no one. Do you dare deny it?”

  “No, lass. I dinna deny it.”

  “Have you ever courted a woman even for a month?”

  “That is no’ a fair question. Most of my life has been spent with the Scots Greys. Perhaps not always in wartime, but always on duty. On occasion, quite hazardous duty. I have no’ had the luxury of courting.”

  “But other soldiers in your dragoon regiment have. They’ve managed to form attachments to their sweethearts. So how am I to believe you would love me and be faithful to me for the rest of our lives when you’ve never been capable of it before?” She emitted a mirthless laugh. “Well, I’ve answered my own question, haven’t I?”

  She sank onto the garden bench. “You told me earlier today that if you ever allowed yourself to fall in love, it would be with me.”

  “Bollocks,” he said with a groan. “If…och, lass. It’s done. I’m there. My barriers are all down. My heart is in pieces. Pixie, I love ye. I love ye so much, I was willing to let ye go because I thought ye’d be happiest with Tilbury. I’d still let ye go if I thought this. Ye’re all that matters to me.”

  He gazed up at the moon and pointed to it as it stood in full glow against the dark sky, beautiful and silver against the velvet blackness. It was a clear night. Nothing obscured the thousands of gleaming stars.

  “I’d hand ye that moon and those stars if ye asked for them,” he said, his voice deep and resonant. “I’d find a way to bring them down and put them in the cup of your hands.”

  She was almost convinced, swept away by the beauty of the night, the light breeze, and delicate scent of lilacs. Swept away by Robbie, by all of him. His look, his subtle musk scent, the exquisite touch of his lips.

  His delicious brogue.

  Indeed, another moment and she would have gone to Tilbury and just let the feathers fly. But she stilled at the sudden sound of another couple who’d crept to the opposite side of the lilac trees, too lost in each other to even notice her and Robbie seated just on the other side of the arbor barrier.

  But this couple was not in love or lost in passion. They were quietly arguing…a tryst breaking up.

  Oh, sweet mercy!

  How were she and Robbie any different? How long before his roaming eye crushed all hope of love surviving between them?

  She t
hrew his handkerchief back at him and ran back to the ballroom.

  Dahlia and Holly must have been watching for her. She had no sooner walked back in than they surrounded her and led her straight up to the ladies’ retiring room. It was empty for the moment, but others would come up as soon as the dance set ended, so they would not have much time alone.

  Dahlia wet her handkerchief and dabbed it against Heather’s eyes. “What did you and Robbie say to each other?”

  “Why are you both torturing me?” She took the handkerchief from Dahlia’s grasp and pressed it to her eyes. “You’ve meddled enough. It has to end now.”

  Holly looked bereft. “Then, nothing has changed?”

  “Not a blessed thing. I am marrying Tilbury, and I want you to both stop now, or I shall…” She took a deep, agonized breath. “…or I shall never speak to either of you again.”

  She didn’t mean it.

  She took it back with her next breath. “No, I’d die if I couldn’t spill my heart to you.”

  They knew she hadn’t meant it.

  But they also knew they had to end their interference.

  “Robbie and I spoke,” she said, sounding quite miserable, which she was. “We heard each other out. We came to the same conclusion we reach every time we confront our feelings for each other. We simply are not meant to be.”

  “But you do have feelings for him?” Holly asked, seeming to have great difficulty taking this in.

  “You married twice, Holly. You found love a second time around. This proves we can love more than one person in our lifetime.”

  Holly’s response, one that Heather knew was not going to be one of agreement, was cut short as other ladies came in.

  She and her sisters left to return to the ballroom.

  They were about to walk in, when out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Robbie standing beside a decorative niche. His arms were crossed over his chest, and he was looking at her; no doubt he’d waited for her and wanted to continue their conversation.

  For this reason, he did not notice the beautiful woman who came up behind him and touched him as though they were intimate friends. Heather felt ill, watching this likely former paramour gain his attention by rubbing herself against his arm.

  Robbie appeared startled, but he allowed this woman to draw him into the niche. It wasn’t for very long, hardly long enough for a kiss.

  But it was enough for Heather.

  He stepped back out and took one look at her.

  He knew she’d seen the exchange.

  To her surprise, she felt his sorrow as a tangible thing radiating from his heart. It surrounded her and shook her as though his sadness was reaching out, desperate for her understanding and forgiveness.

  Could he feel her sorrow?

  She entered the ballroom, needing to be away from him.

  Tilbury smiled at her as she and her sisters joined him. He was still standing with the Duke of Stoke and Lady Melinda, the three of them laughing over some childhood exploit Tilbury and Melinda had shared. Their families had been good friends for ages and often spent time with each other at their country homes. He smiled at her, a genuinely warm smile. “There you are, my dear. I hoped you would show up to rescue me.”

  She returned his smile. “You do not appear to need rescuing.”

  “Oh, but I do. Melly was reminding me of the frog she put in my boot when we were children, and how I cried and ran off to tattle on her to the adults. Not my proudest moment, I will admit.”

  “He still detests frogs,” Melinda said in a mock whisper meant to be heard by all of them in their small party. “Which is why I call him Toad whenever I wish to tease him.”

  Dahlia shot her a look.

  She knew what it was about. Tilbury had referred to Lady Melinda as Melly. She had playfully called him Toad.

  Heather frowned back at her sister. It was no different than Robbie always referring to her as his pixie. Of course, Robbie was now claiming to be in love with her. Tilbury was doing no such thing with Lady Melinda.

  Tilbury held out his hand. “Heather, we haven’t danced since we opened the ball. I’m sure I owe you another.”

  It was another waltz.

  “Yes, of course.” She briefly wondered whether Robbie would ask that beautiful woman who had accosted him a few minutes ago to dance with him.

  No, she had to stop thinking of him.

  What he did no longer mattered.

  But she could not stop looking for him out of the corner of her eye. She cringed when she saw the woman twirl past her in the arms of…no, it wasn’t Robbie. Thank goodness. Although, why should she care?

  “Heather, you seem distracted,” Tilbury said. “Am I no longer fascinating company?”

  She shook her head. “Do forgive me. This ball is beautiful and rather overwhelming. All eyes are on me now that I am to be your marchioness. I don’t want to disappoint you.”

  He cast her another pleasant smile. “You’re doing fine. Don’t worry what others think of you. Just be yourself, and they will love you.”

  As you do?

  She didn’t have the spine to ask him.

  In truth, she feared the answer. He’d never once said he loved her. He’d merely offered to marry her. She had naturally assumed love was the reason.

  He twirled her in his arms, following the circular path of dancers at a leisurely pace. “You did not seem pleased to see Captain MacLauren this evening.”

  The comment caused her to miss a step, but she quickly recovered. “It wasn’t displeasure, merely surprise. He intended to leave for Scotland today. He told us he would not be attending this ball. He was quite certain about it.” By us, she meant me, but it seemed safest not to single herself out.

  “I suppose Stoke and I are to blame for that. We’ve been pressuring Lord Liverpool to remove the current Scottish liaison to Parliament. The man’s an insufferable blowhard and a disgrace to the proud Scottish regiments. I don’t know how we exercised such poor judgment in confirming him in the first place. But the moment Captain MacLauren returned, we knew we had to make him stay.”

  Heather began to nibble her lip.

  What an odd and dismaying turn of events. Her betrothed was the very man who was behind Robbie’s remaining in London and further tormenting her heart.

  Tilbury continued his glowing assessment of Robbie. “He’s a very good man. Smart. Diligent. If he gives you his oath, he keeps to it.”

  Why was he telling her this?

  She nodded. “My brothers-in-law think highly of him as well.”

  “And what do you think of him, Heather? You always seem to frown at him whenever he is in your company. Has he said something to you? Or behaved in an ungentlemanly fashion toward you? I know he is a hound, but I’ve never heard of him treating respectable ladies—”

  “No, he’s always been a perfect gentleman around me.” Her heart shot into her throat. “I don’t frown at him. Why should I? Why are we even talking about him? Should we not be talking about our upcoming wedding? Or the rest of our lives together?”

  He shrugged as they glided across the floor, still in time with the other dancers. “Aren’t all the arrangements in order? Have you packed your belongings?”

  “Not yet, but I will have it done in plenty of time. I don’t have all that much, just my gowns and their accessories.”

  “I’ll arrange to have them brought over to my residence while we’re at the church. The most we have left to do is remember to show up at St. Mary’s on the morning of our wedding day.”

  “Remember to show up?” She laughed a little too eagerly, her inane, twittering trill sounding shrill even to her own ears. “Why would either of us forget?”

  “We wouldn’t, my dear.” He drew her a little closer, almost as though comforting her. It wasn’t a passionate gesture. In truth, it felt like a consoling gesture. “Heather, would you mind terribly if we cut short the dance? I see someone I’ve needed to speak to tonight, and he is now standing alon
e.”

  “If you must. Of course, I don’t mind.”

  “Very gracious of you, my dear. Let me find you a suitable partner. I don’t want to leave you in the lurch.”

  “No, it’s all right. Don’t worry about me. I’ll return to my sisters until—”

  “Ah, here’s someone.”

  Heather almost fainted when they twirled past Robbie, and Tilbury suddenly called him over. “Captain MacLauren, might I impose on you?”

  Robbie eyed them both warily.

  “You see, I must speak to Lord Wembley. It is terribly rude of me to abandon my betrothed. Would you please finish the dance with her?”

  Robbie nodded, but cast her a what-the-hell glance the moment they were left on their own. “Heether,” he said, his brogue pronounced and a mark of his concern, “what in blazes did ye say to him?”

  “Nothing, I promise. Oh, Robbie. This whole evening feels wrong.”

  “I’ve upset ye, lass.” He took her in his arms and began to lead her expertly along to the tune of the music and the flow of the other dancers. There was nothing improper in the way he held her, but there didn’t have to be. She was in his arms, and this was enough to make her come alive.

  “No, it isn’t only you.”

  He was big and handsome, and his touch had her skin tingling.

  Candlelight shone on his golden hair so that it took on a rich, amber hue. She never tired of looking at his handsome face or in the dangerous emerald pools of his eyes. She ached so badly to remain in his arms forever.

  Oh, how she longed to be held and loved by this powerful man.

  Why would this feeling not go away?

  “Robbie, why would he contrive to have me dance with you? I feel like everything is spinning out of control, and I can do nothing to stop it.”

  “I dinna know, lass. Perhaps he senses my feelings for ye and wishes to test us. Rather, test you. He could no’ give a rat’s arse for my feelings.” He gave her hand a light squeeze. “I won’t interfere between the two of ye. I’ve laid my heart bare to ye, and it is now up to ye to come to me willingly or no’. I’ll love ye and protect ye no matter what ye decide.”

  “Don’t say that, Robbie. You’re going to make me cry. Who was that woman who approached you earlier?”

 

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